Happy Birthday, John (Showtime)
by TechnicalTragedy
Summary: One-shot. I was watching Sadstuck-Pieces when the idea for this came into my head. It's kind of sadstuck, I guess? Another John story, because why not. Set after the game ends. There may be a Karkat story like this soon enough. Rated K plus because I mention alcohol.


Your name is John Egbert. Today is your twenty-eighth birthday.

The game has been over for almost twelve years now.

After the game ended, and Earth was restored, you went on to become a very famous pianist.

But unfortunately, you couldn`t share your success with your friends, as you were the only one to survive.

You haven`t used your powers in many years, and don`t plan to. The memories they bring back are too much to bear.

Today is supposed to be a joyous, celebratory day. And while it may not be filled with glee, it sure is a day for celebration.

Today is a day to celebrate the lives, and the deaths, of your dearest friends, as it always is on this day.

That is the reason why you`re here.

You currently stand in the middle of your old bedroom, where the game started.

You think back, and sit at your old desk.

Your computer still rests on it.

You switch it on, listening to the still-familiar humming as it powers up.

You move the mouse, and click on Pesterchum.

Cautiously, you read through the old logs, occasionally wanting to laugh at Dave`s humor, or something silly you or Jade had once said. But your laughter dies in your throat as you remember them.

You reach into your shirt pocket, and bring out your best friend`s shades.

The very same pair you gave him for his birthday.

You remove your glasses and slide them on, swallowing the sudden lump in your throat.

You sit in silence, eyes closed as you remember everything that happened.

Finally, you stand, unable to take anymore.

You turn off the machine, and put your own glasses back on, returning Dave`s to your pocket.

You walk into the hall, having to hold back the tears that threaten to fall.

You escape into the fading Washington sunlight, and check the time.

An hour before you need to be at the concert.

You walk the short distance to your new house, and get dressed for your performance.

Getting into your father`s old car, you feel the tears wanting to come again, but fight them back, swallowing roughly and rubbing at your eyes.

You drive to the concert hall, and walk slowly inside.

Finally it`s time for your concert, and you sit on the piano bench, readying your fingers over the keys.

An anticipating silence falls over the audience as the curtains glide open, revealing you, in your dashing tuxedo, prepared to play.

You start to play, and your fingers dance over the keys, playing the song by themselves.

You`ve played the song so many times it comes naturally to you. You don`t even have to think.

You play several songs, and then you reach the final.

It gives you pause, and you have to swallow as you hesitantly start playing.

Although it`s not really a sad song, you distantly feel tears falling as you lose yourself in the song.

You finish the song, and it takes a moment to collect yourself before you stand and face the applauding audience.

They give you a standing ovation, but you don`t pay all that much attention.

You just want to get home.

So you do.

As soon as everyone is gone, you rush home, to your _real _home, not this fake place where no memories exist.

You open a bottle of wine, and pour yourself some.

You stare at it silently for a while, before raising it.

"I drink to you, friends." You murmur as you bring the glass to your lips.

And then silence once more falls over you.

You look around, and you can see Dave, lounging on one of the chairs, wearing an ironic birthday hat.

You can see Rose, smiling faintly as you open a gift that she didn`t _have _to get you, but that`s just what friends do.

And you can see Jade, grinning as she emerges from the kitchen with a cake she made, going to great lengths to ensure that it wasn`t Betty Crocker, and that this was going to be your best birthday ever.

They start to sing 'Happy Birthday,' and you feels tears start to well up again as they fade away.

"Happy Birthday." You whisper brokenly as you put your head in your hands and cry.


End file.
